The Death of Actaeon
by WhyAye
Summary: This happens right after the episode "Whom the Gods Would Destroy." R&R, please! 1/22/10: Okay, NOW it's done. Added a bit more action to Ch 7, changed Ch 8 a bit, too.
1. Chapter 1

"So Harry Bundrick pleaded to accessory to the murder of Patsy Worth and interfering with a police investigation?"

"That's correct, Ma'am." Detective Inspector Robert Lewis was reviewing the outcome of their latest case with his Chief Superintendent, Jean Innocent.

"And Tina Daniels pleaded to two counts of accessory to murder?"

He looked rather unhappy. "Yes, Sefton Linn and Dean Greely."

"And Theodore Platt's death was what? An accident?"

"Well, he really brought it on himself. Him threatening his wife is what made the dogs think they needed to protect her. We could hear him shouting while we were still in the car. The dogs just did what they were trained to do."

"Your report doesn't mention how the dogs got loose. Tina Daniels was in custody at the time, wasn't she?"

"Uh, Anne Sadikov indicated that they were running loose for exercise. She had set them free like that the first time Sergeant Hathaway and I were at the house, too."

"Handy coincidence, that. It should have been in here." She waved the report at him. "This report is not the usual model of clarity that I have come to expect from you two. You're just accepting that the dogs attacked Platt and Anne couldn't stop them? Seems suspicious to me, after two other Sons of the Twice Born were murdered."

"Ma'am, there's no evidence anyone intended Platt to die that way. It's pure speculation. Can't get a conviction on that."

"Well, you certainly could have interviewed Anne Sadikov. You should have at least taken her statement, even if she wasn't involved in the murder. She was right there at the time of his death. That seems suspicious to me."

"She _saved_ his life earlier. I was there. Why kill him after that?"

"I suppose you have a point. Still, I'd like to hear her answer to that question." Innocent clearly was not satisfied, but she turned on her heel and headed for her office. The conversation was over, but only for the time.

Lewis felt a twinge of guilt. He knew Anne had engineered Platt's death. Why was he protecting her? She was beautiful, yes, but he'd arrested beautiful women before, lots of times. He hadn't even told his sergeant, D.S. James Hathaway, that he knew she had done it. No, he was seriously in breach of his duty here. But that's just how it was going to be this time.

Lewis knew it was his own loathing of the man Anne had killed that, in his mind, completely justified her actions. Platt was despicable for half a dozen reasons, and deserved to die. He drank to excess all the time, and Lewis suspected Platt used cocaine as well; he had seen grains of white powder on the glass-topped table. Platt not only murdered Anne's mother in pursuit of his own pleasure but also treated Anne brutally. A wife should not be treated that way, and Lewis always reacted strongly when married people behaved cruelly or carelessly toward their spouses, or treated their marriage vows lightly.

And, yes, Lewis _had_ felt like he had gotten a tiny bit of revenge knowing that the repellent Platt was killed by the woman he had wronged. The man had slaughtered an innocent person when he should not have been behind the wheel at all, and Lewis was utterly unable to forgive anyone for that. Why was it always the wrong person who ended up dead in car accidents? Anne had done the world a favor by letting her dogs tear up Platt. The man was poison.

Still, he should probably go out to talk to her one more time. She had taken a risk by letting him know she had intended Platt's death and he wanted her to know her secret was safe with him. Promising her that would strengthen his own resolve to let the matter go, even if it violated his professional ethics. His rather loudly nagging, professional ethics.

Hathaway was out of the office. This was his chance. It wouldn't do for James to know where he was going. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the car park.

As he drove, he wondered what he was trying to hide from Hathaway and why. He'd been upfront about the note. But he hadn't told Hathaway that Anne said she was sharing her revenge with Lewis. This was the one piece that completed the story. If James knew Anne had told Lewis that, he would likely feel compelled to tell Innocent. Not that Lewis cared about getting a reprimand, but he didn't want Anne to suffer any fallout. James clearly thought Lewis was letting his personal feelings about Platt affect his judgment, and did not approve. But that wasn't the case. Lewis had better people instincts than Hathaway, and a stronger sense of substance over form when it came to what was just. No, Hathaway must not learn about Anne's secret. _His_ secret.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hathaway returned from lunch, he was a bit surprised to find Lewis still away from his desk. Was Innocent _still_ working him over? He walked down the hallway in that direction under the pretense of getting some water. But Innocent caught him.

"James, I was wondering if I could have your perspective on this Sons of the Twice Born case. Do you think it was the right decision to not pursue charges against Anne Sadikov?"

She piloted him into her office, closed the door, and sat down behind her desk.

"Well, Ma'am, there wasn't any real evidence that she committed any criminal acts."

"Yes, but to not even take a statement from her? Did you agree with that?"

"Inspector Lewis's instincts about people are generally spot-on. I've learned it's usually fruitless to challenge him on a decision like that."

She studied him, her look narrowing. _Pulling information from this pair was like pulling teeth sometimes_. "I am noticing, Sergeant, that you aren't answering my question."

He was also avoiding her eyes.

She continued. "So the only evidence Anne Sadikov was involved in this was Tina Daniels's statement that Anne called on her to find a bolthole for Sefton Linn? Why ask her cleaning lady?"

Hathaway was a bit puzzled. "Well, it's in the report, Ma'am. Tina was more than her cleaning lady. She raised Anne from the age of six."

Now it was Innocent's turn to look puzzled. "Where is that? Show me." She held the report across the desk.

He flipped to the second page and scanned the text. Then he frowned, checking the other pages. Finally, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

"Sergeant . . . ?"

Quietly: "This is not the report I wrote." He opened his eyes and looked at her sadly. "This is a heavily edited version of the report I wrote. Signed by Inspector Lewis."

Concern shadowed her face. "Do you still have a copy of yours?"

He nodded. "I always keep them."

"I think I'd better see it, then."

When he returned with hard copy of the document and closed the door behind him, it didn't take her long to see the differences. Almost every mention of Anne Sadikov was removed.

"Why would he do this? There's more to it than just this, isn't there?" She stared at Hathaway, unrelenting.

James felt very much as if he were betraying his boss, but it was too late to stonewall now. "There was an anonymous note. He got a note, slipped under his door. All it said was, 'His best friends killed him because of a boast.' We never learned who sent it or why."

"When was this?"

"He got it the night you made him go to that concert."

She rolled her eyes at the memory. "And what did you two speculate about it?"

"Well, we thought it _could_ have referred to the ancient Greek myth about Actaeon. This group seemed to know all those stories."

"Remind me, Sergeant."

"One version of the story is about how Actaeon boasted to the Greek goddess Artemis that he was a better hunter than she. She turned him into a stag and his own hunting dogs tore him up. We thought it meant the sender knew something about Greely's death."

"And you didn't see fit to include that in the long version?" She waved Hathaway's report at him.

"There was no concrete link to the case. It was just an anonymous note."

"What do you think now?"

James looked at her, sadly. He couldn't bring himself to answer.

Innocent stood and came over to him. She put her hand on his arm. "James? If Lewis has done something, well, _unprofessional_, we won't be doing him any favors by trying to protect him. There's more you're not telling me, isn't there?" She looked at him shrewdly. "Does Lewis have some _personal_ involvement in this case?"

James was reminded that the Chief Superintendent had, after all, been a detective, too. He took a deep breath. "Inspector Lewis reacted badly to Theodore Platt. We learned that Platt had killed the other driver in a head-on collision when he was intoxicated. But Platt got off. This _is_ personal for Lewis, I'm afraid."

"Sergeant, bring me Lewis, when you find him."


	3. Chapter 3

As always, Anne welcomed him graciously. She fixed tea and biscuits, and they settled in the sunroom, looking out over the lawn. _She's really very nic_e.

After general conversational niceties, he said, "Anne, I want to tell you. What you said to me about getting revenge. I won't tell anyone about that, ever. You can trust me." He put his hand on hers and looked directly into her eyes.

She smiled at him. "I know." Then, incongruously, "Would you like to stay for supper?"

He helped her feed the dogs. After all, it was his fault Tina was not there to do it. They seemed friendly enough, when their food was brought to them. Hard to imagine them tearing a man to shreds.

She made a nice dinner, pasta with a lovely light sauce. Poured a nice wine. Lewis was really enjoying himself for once. She was absolutely not flirting with him, and he liked that. He could be comfortable, and just enjoy the conversation. He did find himself wondering a bit why she was spending so much time with him. But she had spent so much time in the company of that repulsive man, it was no wonder she just enjoyed being with someone who appreciated her.

When she left the room to get the bottle of scotch, Lewis thought he should probably call Hathaway to tell him where he was. He punched a button on his phone but there was no response. The phone had run out of charge. That meant it must be pretty late. He'd best be heading home. But his resolve to leave was overcome when she poured him a tumbler of scotch. _She is so beautiful. _

Finally, with regret, he tossed back the scotch and looked directly at her. "I really must be going now."

"I'm really very sorry Inspector, but I can't let you do that."

He furrowed his brow. "Why not?"

"You're in no state to drive. You've had several glasses of wine and a scotch. I'm sure you would never drive while intoxicated."

She was right, of course. He had not realized before then how unsteady he felt.

"You're certainly welcome to stay here. I always keep a guest room ready, so it's no trouble."

She helped him up the stairs. He was surprised by his own condition. He could barely walk and things kept shifting out of focus. He blinked to try to clear his eyes. Where were they going again? He found he was unable to remember. His brain was going all fuzzy. The last thought he had of any clarity was, _This doesn't feel like being drunk_.


	4. Chapter 4

The following morning, as usual, Hathaway was in the office first. He was working on his monthly productivity report. They always seemed like such a waste of time, everyone knew who worked hard and who did not. But it wasn't as if he had anything better to do. And once Lewis arrived, he'd make James complete his report, too, since they mostly worked on the same things all month. _Boring_. The part of police work James liked the least.

By half past nine, Lewis was still not in. _I wonder what's happened to him? He was gone all afternoon yesterday, too._ He called Lewis's house, but there was no answer. Then he tried Lewis's mobile. _Out of service_. Either he had let its charge run down or he was out of the service area. _He'd have to be pretty far away for that_. And James had never known Lewis to forget to charge his phone. This was getting weird.

Hathaway got up and ambled down the hall to see if the Chief Super knew anything. But Innocent's office was dark. Were they working on something together? Not likely. Still, he checked with her sergeant to see if there was any message or other hint at where Lewis might be. _Nothing_. Innocent was at an administrative meeting, and Lewis would not have been at that.

Hathaway returned to work on his report. But he was unable to focus on it, and kept drumming his fingers on the desk, trying to force ideas into his head. Unable to sit still any longer, Hathaway got in his car and headed to Lewis's house. Maybe something happened to him, or maybe he was really ill and couldn't answer the phone. But when James arrived, he saw Lewis's car was gone, and there was no sign of him being home.

Frustrated and, by now, worried, James checked his own phone again, but there were no new messages. There was nothing he could do but go back to the office, work on that stupid report, and wait.

* * *

Lewis woke slowly. He was lying on his back on a bed in a high-ceilinged room with bright sunlight coming in the tall windows. He had never seen this room before. He sat up, but immediately almost fell over. His head was spinning from the movement. His mouth had a metallic taste, like copper, and he had a terrible thirst. _Where was this?_ _What happened?_

He checked his watch. It was already past ten in the morning. He loosened his tie. That seemed to help his head a little. _At least I still have me clothes on_. Even his shoes were still on.

Clinging to the brass frame of the bed, he was able to stand up and shuffle closer to the window. He recognized the vista, but it took a moment before he remembered what he was looking at. It was the lawn and temple at Platt's house. As seen from a great height, he realized. He must be on the top floor of the house. The view was spectacular.

He gradually began to remember why he was here. And that, at ten in the morning, he remembered he should by now be somewhere else. He went uncertainly to the door, his head was still reeling. How would he drive?

But that was not his most immediate problem. The bedroom door was locked, and he could see no way to unlock it from his side. He knocked and called. "Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Anne?" But no one answered.

God, he was thirsty. Then he noticed the full carafe and a glass on a tray on the dressing table. Gratefully, he filled the glass and drank it down. Better. And he had to pee. His eyes fell on a chamber pot in the corner. _You must be joking_, he thought, without knowing whom he was addressing. _Anne?_ Had she locked him in? _Chamber pot it is, then_. Not much choice.

He sat down on the bed to assess his situation. No going out the window, it was too far down and there was no way to climb. Well, _someone_ had brought him water. All he had to do was wait for that someone to come back. His head was spinning again, his thoughts getting fuzzy. He needed to lie down.


	5. Chapter 5

Hathaway could not sit still. He had jumped up for a smoke about a hundred times, it seemed. Around half past three, Innocent came in, heading for her office. He intercepted her, unable to wait any longer.

"Ma'am, a minute?"

She looked irritated. "Can I just put my things down?"

Hathaway walked with her. "Ma'am, it's Inspector Lewis. He apparently left here yesterday while you and I were discussing the death of Theodore Platt. I haven't seen him since. And his phone is out of service. He's not at his house, either."

He's been gone since _when_?"

"Early afternoon, yesterday."

"Maybe he went to see Anne Sadikov."

Hathaway looked puzzled. "Why?"

Innocent sighed. "I told him I thought he should interview her. Maybe he actually listened to me for once."

Hathaway allowed a small smile. "Unlikely, Ma'am, but worth a punt."

"If that doesn't go anywhere, get a search going."

But when Hathaway telephoned, Anne told him she had not been home during the afternoon of the day before, and had not seen Lewis or heard from him. James toyed with the idea of having her come for an interview conducted by him, but that could be done later. Right now he wanted to focus on finding his governor.

He put out a bulletin to all mobile units and called everyone he thought could have heard from Lewis. Then he went to Lewis's house and let himself in. Lewis had given James a key to make it easier when he sent James to get things for him. Now it was useful again. Hathaway didn't really expect to find anything, but there could be a message on his answering machine or a note about an appointment. It was something to do, at least.

As he expected, he could find nothing to indicate where Lewis had gone. Hathaway put the mail on the counter and sat down on the sofa, trying to think. Professor Gold's book on Greek mythology was on the table, and he picked it up. He had already called her but, like everyone else, she had not heard from Lewis.

As he thumbed absent-mindedly through the pages, a slip of paper fell out. It was the anonymous note Lewis had received: "His best friends killed him because of a boast." It had been stuck between the pages discussing the story of Actaeon, whom Artemis had turned into a stag so Actaeon's own hunting dogs would tear him apart. _That Artemis was one dangerous woman_, James thought. A keen hunter, beautiful, intelligent, and chaste. It dawned on him that the analogy to Anne Sadikov was fitting.

With a growing sense of alarm, Hathaway strode from the house, phone to his ear. He would make sure that the Chief Superintendent knew where he was going, and he would not make the mistake of going alone. No way would he and Lewis both just disappear.

* * *

Hathaway had commandeered D.S. Kershaw, and the two of them sped to what used to be Platt's home. Lewis's car was not there. Hathaway began to have misgivings about the assumptions he made on the way there.

Anne Sadikov answered the door and invited them both in. She offered tea, but they declined. Hathaway led the questioning, though he was the less senior officer.

"We're concerned about Detective Inspector Lewis. He seems to have disappeared. Have you seen him?"

"No, not since, well, the day you were here, Sergeant," she said to Hathaway. "That was last week."

Hathaway conceded. "That's right. Only we thought he might have come back out here yesterday."

She looked a bit confused. "Do you want to search the house?"

"Yes, I think that would be appropriate." She furrowed her brow for a second, as if she disagreed with Hathaway about the appropriateness of searching her house, but she gestured broadly, and let him and Kershaw have the run of the place.

Of course, they did not find anything. No sign of Lewis, no sign of his car, no sign of anything suspicious. They had to leave empty-handed.


	6. Chapter 6

Lewis, hands bound, sat in the temple, watching them go. Bloody hell. Why was she keeping him prisoner? His head was still a bit foggy.

A few minutes later, Anne strode into the temple. "Come on, let's go. She jerked him to his feet.

"Anne . . . ?" She looked at him, clinically. It was chilling.

"Why are you doing this?"

She looked matter-of-fact. "You know enough about me to cause me harm. Serious harm. I think you know what that means."

"Anne! I would _never_ cause you harm. I had that chance already and passed it up." He looked at her, beseechingly. "Please."

"You I could maybe trust. But your sergeant does not care about people. He only cares about the rules. You have broken the rules, haven't you?"

Lewis looked down. He _had_ broken the rules. It was out of character for him, and he had no tools for coping with his own breach of duty.

"Your sergeant will betray us if he has the chance to talk to you."

"You're wrong about him. He cares about people, too." Lewis could think of nothing else to say. He walked along with her, docile, quiet.

Then he realized she was not taking him back to the house, but out to the wooded part of the property.

"Anne, where are you taking me?"

She said nothing.

They walked through the woods for some time. Lewis thought how he would have enjoyed this, if his hands weren't bound and if he had some idea why this woman was leading him out here.

Finally, she turned to him.

"Inspector, I very much enjoy your company. Under different circumstances, I might even find you attractive. But as it is, I find I need to make you disappear. Please step over there."

She gestured to a hole, freshly dug in the ground. Lewis recognized its purpose, having dug one of these himself a number of years earlier.

The last time a woman had threatened to kill him like this, he was married and had children dependent on his earning a living. That was no longer the case. He wasn't married, and his two children were quite independent. He found himself wondering seriously about what could motivate him to stay alive in this situation. That is, something besides the handgun he was pretty sure she was holding under her jacket.

"Go ahead, Anne. Kill me. I can't think of a better way to go than at your hands."

She just watched him, disbelieving.

"Or let me live. I will never divulge your secret, and we will both spend the rest of our lives happily thinking we've fooled the system."

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours.

* * *

Hathaway and Kershaw sped away from Platt's house. Hathaway pounded his forehead with this fist.

"We're missing something. He _has_ to be there."

Kershaw glanced at him as he worked his way through the late-afternoon traffic. "What about that temple thing? Why didn't we look there?"

Hathaway realized Kershaw was right. He had blocked the temple from his mind because of the gruesome scene that occurred there the last time he stood on its portico. But what better place? The floor there was already stained with blood.

"Turn around, Adrian. We have to go back there. He's there somewhere, and he's most likely fighting for his life."

Kershaw looked sideways at Hathaway for a moment before concentrating on getting the car turned around. This was very melodramatic for the normally deadpan sergeant. Was he serious or was he yanking Kershaw's chain?

Unable to decipher Hathaway's real motive, Kershaw simply obeyed his command. Not that James was senior to him. _In the real world_, Kershaw thought, _ he'd be taking my orders_. Still, he knew they both cared about D.I. Lewis, and Hathaway seemed to know what was up, at least more than Kershaw.

The car spit gravel as it crunched to a sudden stop. The two men ran to the temple building on the vast estate.

But it was empty.


	7. Chapter 7

Hathaway looked around, now in nearly a complete panic. He was certain Lewis was here somewhere. The fact that Anne was also nowhere to be found only added to his mounting fear.

Kershaw was looking at him critically. "So you and Lewis had suspicions about this woman, had evidence she might have been rather closely involved, and when Lewis said forget about it, you just folded."

Hathaway did not respond. He was too busy trying to work out where Lewis and Anne could be.

"_And_ you knew he had a big, personal grudge about Platt, right? But when Platt dies and Lewis says, 'We really don't need to look closely at this, James,' you just go along with that?!" Kershaw could hardly believe Hathaway, practically famous for being by-the-book, would allow Lewis, also famous for being by-the-book, to just sweep the end of the investigation under the rug.

"What, was he in love with her? Or more? Was he _doing_ her?"

Hathaway turned and caught Kershaw by the collar, his fist pulled back and ready to fire. Then, visibly suppressing a shudder, he released Kershaw. "You little shit," he muttered. "How dare you say that about him?"

Kershaw, his eyes wild, said nothing. He had underestimated the loyalty between the two men, that much was clear.

He retreated considerably. "Sorry, James. Just trying to cover everything. You don't think he had something going with the Sadikov woman?"

"No way. I think maybe he would have _liked_ to, but nothing more than that." Hathaway thought for a moment. "No, I think he thought of her more as a goddess than a woman. Artemis, maybe." This last was said more to himself than to Kershaw.

"C'mon, let's try the woods."

He and Kershaw followed the track that led into the woods on the estate.

* * *

Lewis had resigned himself to whatever fate Anne Sadikov chose for him. He didn't consider her a murderer; what she had done was avenge the death of her own mother at the hands of decadent and despicable men. Lewis was all for that. So he stood in the grave that had been dug in the woods there, and turned his back to Anne.

"Get on your knees," she ordered.

He complied. But he found himself starting to cry, much to his embarrassment.

"Anne, I'm sorry if I've caused you any risk of danger. I like you very much; in some ways you remind me of me wife. Please be assured that I would never, _ever_ cause you harm." He could not continue, and pressed his hands to his eyes.

He heard the click of the gun, and braced himself. The bang never came.

* * *

Hathaway surveyed the scene before him. Lewis, hands bound, was kneeling in a large, freshly dug hole. Anne Sadikov stood about ten feet away, pointing a revolver at Lewis's head. James gestured at Kershaw to stay put, then glanced at him to ensure he got the message.

Kershaw was staring at the gun, rooted in place. _Okay, don't expect him to be much help_. Hathaway silently came up behind her, one step at a time. As the distance between them closed, she suddenly swung around, leading with the gun.

The hard, round opening drew Hathaway's attention like a magnet. His eyes wide, his breathing checked, it was like he was trying to see down the barrel, trying to see the name on the bullet.

Her catlike eyes narrowed. "Sergeant." He still could not look away. "You'll go first."

But a steady voice behind her broke the spell. "No, Anne. Not him."

She glanced over her shoulder. In the moment she looked away, Hathaway sprang at her, knocking the revolver out of her hand. She dove for it, but Hathaway flung himself at her and she landed on the ground, several feet short of where the gun lay. She clawed at James, fighting like a tiger. She scratched his neck, drawing blood, but he had the advantage. Gripping both her wrists, he held her down and checked over his shoulder to see what had become of Kershaw.

The other sergeant had snapped out of his trance when the gun went flying. He sprinted over now, handcuffs in hand, and together they secured her, moving her farther away from the weapon on the ground. Then Hathaway went over to Lewis.

He was sitting on the fresh earth, expressionless. Finally, he looked up at James, his eyes sad.

"I was wrong about her. She would have killed you. I thought she was . . . " he struggled to find the right word. ". . . good," he finished lamely. "But she's just like the others."

"She would have killed you, too, Sir." Hathaway finished untying Lewis's wrists.


	8. Chapter 8

D.C.S. Innocent called Lewis and Hathaway both into her office.

There was a tangible silence in the air.

Finally, she sighed deeply.

"Lewis. You know you were out of bounds on this case." It was not a question. "Hathaway, you should have reported to me the moment you thought Lewis was not . . . acting within the ethical guidelines we all adhere to. _And_ the moment you thought he was in trouble."

She turned once again to the older man. "Your actions in this case required _two_ of my sergeants to risk their lives hunting you down and nearly throwing themselves into the line of fire. What is it you have to say on your own behalf?"

Lewis closed his eyes, looking extraordinarily chastened. "I'm really, really sorry Ma'am." He kept his head bowed, and his eyes closed. "This was a really difficult case for me. Personal, like. I didn't realize. I should've given it up to someone else."

She looked at the younger of the two.

"Hathaway, how do you feel about this? You knew Lewis was concealing substantial information. And this resulted in you and Kershaw running blindly into the woods where this woman was holding Lewis at gunpoint?! James?"

Hathaway thought before answering. He had been able to size up the situation and he did not feel they were at that much risk when they set on Anne Sadikov, disarming her and freeing Lewis. After all, there were three of them and only one of her. And while he suspected that Lewis had still not told him the whole story as far as Anne's true involvement in the deaths of Sefton Linn and Dean Greely, he found himself agreeing with Lewis that Anne had not been the true wrongdoer in the case. Anyway, she would be serving some serious time for her attack on Lewis.

"Ma'am?" James was resigned. "I'm sure you'll be fair in dealing with Inspector Lewis. I was trying to trust his judgment. Like him, I also didn't realize how the case was affecting him." This was not strictly true. James had known all along that Lewis had strong personal feelings about both Anne and Platt. He just hadn't known what to do about it, and his inertia allowed the situation to escalate.

He continued. "I've learned a lot from this case. I hope you'll take that into account."

"Lewis, you're looking at a week, at the minimum. Hathaway . . . I'll let you know when I've decided what's appropriate." She studied the pair of them some more, shaking her head. "If I had known what I was creating the day I put you two together . . . ." Their efforts to not smile were failing. "Go on, get out. You'll have my decisions by the end of the day."

As they went out of the office, Lewis put his hand on Hathaway's shoulder. "Thanks, Jim. Again."


End file.
